Pasts & Presents
by I Lurk In Your House
Summary: For six year old Kendall, Christmas means end of the season hockey games that could make or break the relationship he had with his father, and he wasn't so lucky this time around. Will it all be fixed by Christmas? Or will it all come crashing down? Prequel to Favorites & Family but you don't need that to understand this.
1. Christmas Trees & Cookies, Please

**I feel clever for coming up with that AWESOME somewhat punny title. So if for some reason you clicked on this story without reading the summary,this is the PREQUEL to Favorites & Family, but you don't need that story to understand this. I don't think… And Kendall can't pronounce his "l"s right. What, it's cute! **

"CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAAAS!" 6 year old Carlos Garcia yelled, as he flew from the top of the Diamond's couch and landed on to the whitest carpet you've ever seen with a thud louder than you've ever heard.

"Carlos! Christmas isn't for another week!" Logan Mitchell corrected, as he hung an ornament onto the half decorated Christmas tree.

"Stiw," Kendall said, making one of those popcorn stringy things. "It's stiw reawwy cwose."

"And," James added, helping Kendall with the popcorn, "He's helping us get Ito the Christmas spirit, since we're decorating the tree."

"Okay boys!" Mrs. Diamond called. "Who wants cookies?"

"ME!" And just like that, there was a rampage. The mothers of the four rowdy boys, however have grown used to these and never let their guard down. She held the plate higher than what they could reach, which wasn't hard considering they were six, and told them they wouldn't get any unless she saw they did a good job on the tree.

Rewards had always made Kendall nervous. In order to get a reward, you'd have to be good enough to earn it. His dad had said over and over," YOU didn't win! Your team won! You almost made them lose Kendall. You be so irritating sometimes, and you won't get any ice cream until you're GOOD ENOUGH."

His mother tried to tell him, his friends tried to tell him, heck the other parents tried to tell him, but that didn't matter. It was true. He wasn't good enough.

This state of mind wasn't very healthy for a mere kindergartener, and it effected his confidence on the littlest thing, even as little as Christmas tree decorations, and of course the rewarded cookies.

He knew that even if they had managed to burn down the tree, they still would've gotten the cookies, but after six years of doing your best and being told you didn't do it well enough, it definitely implanted some pretty bad thoughts in your head.

He wasn't exactly surprised when he heard Mrs. Diamond exclaim, "The tree hasn't looked this good in years!", but he did get worried when she said, "Now why isn't the popcorn on the tree?"

He knew it was his fault, he had heard the word "cookies", so he dropped the string and popcorn and made a run for it.

"Sorry," he murmured. "It's my fauwt."

Kendall looked down and felt very disappointed in himself.

Now Brooke Diamond was no idiot. She knew well what Kendall's dad had done to him, but he wasn't his wife, she was barely his acquaintance, what was she supposed to do?

That didn't stop her from feeling bad. Kendall Knight was the most adorable thing. He put in 110% into everything he did just to make his dad proud of him, he was even catching up to Logan in intelligence. He even tries to get rid of the unwanted "w" sounds because he knew his dad couldn't stand knowing his son had imperfect speech. Brooke couldn't see how there could be a more perfect son. Well, she could, and it was called James.

"Nuh uh!" James argued, which couldn't have make Brooke prouder of her son. "I was helping him, so it was my fault too!"

Kendall smiled at his friend, and looked up at the female Diamond. "Both you boys get cookies!"

Kendall was more relieved than you could ever imagine.

The four boys ripped the plate out of Mrs. Diamond's hands, now that she's lowered it, and wiped the entire thing clean in five seconds.

Jennifer Knight had picked up Kendall as late possible. She loved her son, she really did, and that's exactly why she didn't want him to go home. She wanted home, but it was probably better that he stayed with people that weren't constantly telling him how he messed up.

She rang the doorbell and heard two sets of feet running towards the door. The door flew up to reveal to six year old boys smiling widely at her.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy!" Kendall was jumping up and down, what expected from a girl his age. "We decorated the Christmas tree, come see!"

The two boys pulled her in to look at their masterpiece.

"Wow! You boys did this?"

"Carlos and Logan did too, and they mostly did the ornaments and the other hangy things, but we did the popcorn string and it took ALOT of time!" James exclaimed.

"Why are there crumbs on it?" She asked.

"Wew, we kind of…" He looked at the ground with the same expression he had when Brooke asked why the popcorn wasn't on the tree.

"We ate cookies around the tree and then started to play this game where we had to throw our cookie up the tree and catch it so that we could eat without it falling on the floor," James smiled. He was bouncing around, hyper.

"It just shows that this tree was so good, you guys got cookies for it!"

Kendall face brightened almost immediately and began to bounce around with James.

"Jennifer! Your here already?" She heard someone ask.

She turned around to see Brooke standing there smiling.

"Yeah, let's go, Kendall."

"No, no! Stay for a while! Have some tea!"

"Alright…"

The two women walked to the kitchen together. Once the boys were out of earshot, Brooke asked, "How's the baby?"

Mrs. Knight's hand came up to her bulging stomach. "She's fine. I can tell she'll be a feisty one."

"Like her brother," Mrs. Diamond commented.

"Like her brother…" Jennifer repeated.

"Are you worried?"

She knew exactly what the other women meant. Are you worried her dad'll treat her like Kendall.

"No. He's excited about this one."

"What? He wasn't excited for Kendall?"

"No, and get this, he likes this one because she's a girl!"

"No!"

"I'm worried about Kendall, really. I'm afraid Kenneth's going to play favorites right in front of Kendall. He's already done enough to him."

"I know. I asked why the popcorn wasn't on the tree and he freaked out!"

Jennifer sighed. "I try to tell Kendall he doesn't do anything wrong, but he won't listen until his dad tells him he didn't, which he never does."

Brooke sipped from her tea. "And your sure he doesn't like Kendall because he wanted a daughter?"

Mrs. Knight nodded.

Brooke couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sure she wanted a daughter, it was a mere preference, but she was extremely proud of her baby boy. So what was wrong with Kendall? The child who tries to do everything right for his dad isn't good enough… because of his gender? "Why does he want a daughter so much?"

"I don't know! And it's driving me crazy and Kendall has almost no self esteem! Now I'm afraid the baby's going to have too much."

The women talked for a few more minutes before Jennifer decided it was getting late. "Come on, Kendall. We'll go decorate our own Christmas tree!"

"Yeah! Bye James!" Kendall waved as ran for the door.

Kendall took a step back to look at his masterpiece. It almost looked as good as the Diamond's tree, but that tree had four sets of little hands working on it, and this one only had Kendall and a little bit of Jennifer.

Kendall heard the lock of the front door and watch his father open the door and collapse on the couch.

"Daddy!" Kendall ran over to his father. No matter how many times his dad told him he didn't do something right, or that he was a failure at the age of six, Kendall still looked up to his dad. "Wook at the Christmas tree! Me and mommy decorated it! But it was mostly me."

"Mommy and I, Kendall," Mr. Knight corrected in an annoyed tone.

"Kenneth, calm down, he's six. And look at the tree. He even put the star on top himself."

"And it's crooked! And what did I say about bunching the same colors up in one place?"

This time when Kendall looked down, he had real reason to. "Sorry."

"Sorry wont fix the tree, now will it?"

"No," he said and started to make his way to the tree.

The one women in the house groaned. What was she going to do? "You know Kendall, I'll fix it. You did a great job. Hey, how about I take you back to James' house, you guys can have a sleepover."

"Hasn't he already been there? I'm sure Brooke is busy and-"

"She'll understand," Mrs. Knight cut off. "I'll call her right now. Kendall, go up and pack."

"Understand what? That our son thinks he can play all day whenever he wants?"

"I'm going to call Brooke and see if it's okay. If it is, he's going. End. Of. Discussion," she said in a stern voice.

Luckily, Kendall was already upstairs and didn't hear his father's remark.

"Sure he can stay!" Brooke's voice came from the other side of the line. "James! Kendall's coming for a sleepover!"

Mrs. Knight heard James' cheers from the background.

She caught a quick glimpse of her husband shaking his head in disappointment.

She hung up and saw Kendall staring at her with a wide smile, and a duffel back over his shoulder.

Kendall ran to the front door and waited for his mother to make her way there too.

"Is that your-"

"It doesn't matter!" Jennifer cut off again. "Let's go Kendall."

She was there and back faster than you could say "Kendall's the most perfect son EVER", and we can say there was a lot of yelling that night in the Knight residents and leave it at that.

At the Diamonds', however, James, Carlos, and Logan were waiting for him, Brooke claiming that as long as Kendall was coming over, the other boys might as well too.

The boys had a great time. They jumped around and threw stuff at each other, then had to clean it all up. What really tore things apart was when Carlos suggested basement hockey. Everything was going great, they even got James' parents to be the audience. They did a great job of cheering all the boys on equally, and didn't think anything could go wrong, until a certain incident:

Kendall was proud of himself. He had the puck (small ball, pucks were defective on carpet) going towards the goal. He was literally only a a few inches away from the goal when he shot. As luck would have it, Logan was on his trail since he stole the ball/puck from Carlos. Just a second before Kendall shot, Logan got a centimeter a head of him and almost threw his stick in front of the goal. In a split second, he passed to Carlos who scored on the other side of the room.

Kendall's mouth hung open. He had lost. He messed it up. It was all his fault.

The Diamond parents just thought Kendall's mouth was open because he had no idea how good his friends had gotten, so they weren't expecting him to run off the little field they built and shoot up the stairs.

The rest of them stared at the staircase Kendall had previously exited on, the. Brooke stood up, but her son quickly told her to sit back down, assuring her they would handle it.

The boys ran upstairs. They stood still and listened for a moment. No sounds. They then ran up to the top floor, knowing it was last place he could be.

"Let's check the big room first," James suggested.

The other boys nodded, and headed towards he "big room", which was really the master bedroom. They searched it from head to toe, checking the obvious places first.

"Hey! I see a foot from underneath the bed!" Carlos yelled.

He grabbed it and tried to pull it out. There was a thud from middle of the bed and then Logan's voice,"Ow! Carlos, that's my foot!"

There was a giggle from the far corner of the room, the what sounded like slapping, probably Kendall quickly covering his mouth.

Logan crawled out from under the bed and pointed toward the large dresser in the corner where the giggle came from.

They all pushed so that they could see everything behind it. "Kendall!"

Kendall was pressed up against the wall, standing so that his upper body could've been hidden behind the huge mirror.

Carlos pulled him out so he was in the light. That's when they saw the tear stains.

Kendall wasn't crying type. He whined and whined, but rarely cried. So the few times the boys had witnessed it, it was pretty bad.

"Why were you crying? Is because me? I shouldn't have taken the puck from you. You were gonna score, it wasn't fair."

"Logan!" James said, smacking his head. "That's how you play!"

"But still. I took it and passed to Carlos and we won. You guys were supposed to win."

"It's okay," Kendall croaked. "It was my fauwt. I faiwed."

"No you didn't! You were great!" Carlos insisted. "Logan was just being a jerk face."

"Hey! You scored!"

"No! I wasn't doing it right! If I was doing it right, Wogie wouldn't have taken the puck in the first pwace!

"Kendall! You did great! You almost scored and that's good in enough!"

"No! I awmost scored, that's not scored! I faiwed wike every time I do something."

Now the boys knew what this was about. They'd only ever seen Mr. Knight during hockey games, but never actually met him, and he tended to criticize everything, even when Kendall was perfect. They figured it changed the way he thought and this is what they had to work with.

"Kendall, you didn't know I was behind you," Logan reasoned, "So you couldn't have stopped me from taking the puck. Besides, you know how many times I messed up? I don't remember the last time I helped my team score like that."

"Yeah, but your a good schoow person. I'm not good at anything."

"Your good at other stuff too! Your a good student," Logan said, emphasizing student as his way of correcting him.

"Just maybe not as good as Logan…" Carlos trailed off.

"And your a great hockey player," James added.

"But I-"

"EVERYONE gets the puck stolen from them! Even the awesome ones on TV!"

"And your a great friend!" Carlos told him.

"Yeah! You never mess up at being a friend!" Logan said.

"They're right," James agreed. "Your the BESTEST friend ever."

"It's just best," Logan corrected.

"No one cares!"

"Reawwy?" Kendall asked, ignoring the short argument.

"Yeah, and your the bestest at other things too."

"BEST! It's just best!"

"No one cares, Logan!"

"Alright. Let's a promise," Kendall said. "We'll promise to never let each other down and be the bestest friend to each other."

"It. Is just. BEST! Bestest doesn't even make sense, when was the last time you heard someone say, 'Hey, I'm the BESTEST at that!'"

They other boys just started to laugh, until they finally said, "We promise."

**Their little promise? If I right a sequel, it'll be an essential part of the entire story. But it won't be seasonal… which is sad because seasonal fics are fun.**

**Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**


	2. Hockey Blow-To-The-Head

2. Hockey Blow-To-The Head

**MERRY early CHRISTMAS!**

**(And a happy new year)**

**I feel satisfied doing all this stuff to Kendall. I think it's cause no one ever does anything to Kendall. (Hint hint, for your next one shot/multichap/series)**

**So, Katie isn't… alive yet, and so the story isn't done yet. The chapter that takes place on Christmas will actually be ON Christamas! Yeah, yeah, I know what your thinking: "Seriously dumb face? Who's gonna read a fanfic on CHRISTMAS?" **

It was the night before the big hockey game. It was the last for the season, and Kendall's dad made it perfectly clear that he was not allowed to screw up.

For the past week he had overworked him to the point where he couldn't lift his right arm. Fed up, Mr. Knight left the house in a huff, probably not returning until the hockey game.

It was perfectly fine with Kendall, as much as he loved his dad (for whatever reason), his constant criticism wasn't what a six year wanted to hear.

He headed upstairs, feeling eerily cold. It wasn't that cold outside, was it? He didn't like feeling cold. His dad told him only the weak felt cold. If he was a real man, he'd always feel hot. Sometimes his dad would go as far as taking all his warm coats, hats, scarves, and gloves off of him and push him into the snowy, below freezing world. His dad had done that to him every winter, which might explain the mysterious sicknesses he'd get every year.

He crawled into bed, feeling like it was one of those time his dad pushed him outside. The thing was, he was inside AND under the thick covers. Was he really this weak?

He tried changing positions. He tried finding another part of the bed. It wasn't working. He was still freezing. He figured it would go away. He'll see. By morning he'll be warm. In the meantime, he tried his best to wrap himself in his blanket.

Well, he was right. It was nice and toasty. Maybe… he wasn't that weak.

But it didn't matter, because no matter how warm he is now, he was still cold last night.

WEEEEEEAK, the back of his mind screeched.

Great, now he was taunting himself.

Was it another sign of weakness, or was it just inevitable?

Whatever it was, it was annoying.

Annoyance. Another sign of weakness, according to his father. Well, that was a little hypocritical since Mr. Knight always seemed to be annoyed.

WEEEEEEEEEEEAK.

He didn't care if annoyance or frustration made him weak, he was fed up. At… himself? It was his own fault. It's not one of those you can't help, you can make your self strong, and if you failed you were weak.

So he was weak and he failed. This was perfect. Just perfect. His confidence deteriorated to this right before the last game of the season. Perfect.

"That trophy doesn't mean a thing if you didn't earn it. You don't deserve it."

"I told you to do it right this time!"

"You screwed up again, Kendall!"

"You're an embarrassment. I'm ashamed to call you my son."

Kendall felt like thrashing around and destroying everything.

Tears. They were another sign of weakness. They were not allowed to fall. His heartbeat quickened, he started to breathe way faster than what was normal. He hands felt tingly, a feeling he didn't like.

He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing the second he opened them the salty water would flood. He pulled down on his blond hair, deciding he deserved the pain it brought. Pain was what was inflicted on the weak, right?

Quick whimpers escaped his forcefully closed mouth every now and then. This was not how he was going down. But how do you fight yourself… especially when your the one pulling on your own hair. Besides, what would fight? How would someone even go about it?

Confusion, tears, frustration, annoyance, even the cold was back.

WEEEEEEEEAK.

Right, that too. If you called yourself weak, it was clearly true, right.

He heard the doorbell ring. He forgot about that. His friends always came an hour before every game.

They couldn't see him like this. They would call him weak. They would make fun of him. They'd break the friendship promise, and Kendall would be all alone but they'd still have each other.

That couldn't happen. He needed his friends. If they were willing to drop him like that… did that mean they didn't need him?

No, the entire thing was hypothetical, plus needing and wanting were two different things. Even if they didn't need him, they would still want him, right?

No! Stop!

The entire thing was hypothetical because none of it would happen! They wouldn't see him, they wouldn't realize they don't need him, and he wouldn't be friendless!

So he went to where he always went. His closet. He hid there whenever he needed a place to hide. He'd shut the door and sit in the corner. He even moved stuff around so there was a little shield of suitcases so no one would see him. Of course it took a lot of rearranging to make it look like it was naturally like that.

Feeling confident with his plan (a feeling that he wanted more of), he slipped into his closet positioned himself behind the suitcases.

He realized he had stopped crying… or stopped almost crying, and smiled triumphantly. Why had he been crying in the first place? And then it had to come back.

"You little worthless runt!"

"You got lucky!"

"You don't pass, you take the shot for yourself!"

"You didn't score the goal. You could've made me proud. Now looked at what you've done you disappointment."

It all began again, only when he pulled his hair, it was out frustration.

Why couldn't he be good enough?

Why did he have to be good enough?

What was good enough?

He didn't know. He didn't know what good enough was. His team won every game, right? Except for a couple, but they still won a lot. Was that not good enough?

Kendall scored most of the goals. The only ones he didn't score were the one where he had to pass. His dad wasn't the biggest passing fan, so he always got in trouble for it, but they always scored. Wasn't that good enough?

Was there even a real definition of good enough? Couldn't his dad call him good enough? Couldn't putting your best effort into it be good enough?

He felt the stains on his face, proof that had failed yet again. He couldn't even keep tears from falling. Maybe he really wasn't good enough.

WEEEEEEEEAK.

He was sick of this. S-I-C-K sick of it! He couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop his tears. He couldn't stop his heart from beating so fast. He couldn't stop he breathing so fast. He couldn't that stupid tingly feeling in his hands. He couldn't stop- well maybe he could stop himself from pulling on his own hair, but at the same time, he still couldn't because he was

WEEEEEEEEEAK.

Right. That.

Couldn't it stop it's self? It should. If it couldn't it was

WEEEEEEEAK.

"Um, we can't find him Mrs. Knight," he heard. It sounded like… Carlos.

Carlos was here. Which meant Logan and James were here.

They couldn't be this close to him. They'd hear him, and find him, and call him

WEEEEEEEEEAK.

He slid down the wall. He slid down until he was lying down. It was a cramped space, so had to bend his legs, and he couldn't stretch his arms, not that he wanted to. He kept his eyes shut and his hands moved from the blond mop to his eyes, applying pressure and hoping the tears would stop.

"Kendall?" His mother called. He really hoped no one would open the closet door.

Whimpers threatened to escape, but he refused to let them win. He would win. He was Kendall Knight, and he was good enough.

He turned his body sideways, so that his cheek was on the carpet. It was easier to keep everything under control that way.

"Are you sure he's not here?" Logan's worried voice asked.

"Maybe he ran away…" He could see James playing with his jersey, pulling it, kneading it, just like he did when he was nervous.

"No, no," Mrs. Knight assured. "He's hiding. He's in this house, I promise James."

All the three boys outside got out of her words was "Go look for him". So they split up, leaving Kendall with sound of shuffling feet.

After a few minutes, light slowly seeped in. At first, Kendall was confused. Did he die or something? He didn't have breakfast after all… Then he realized someone had opened the closet door. He held his breath, hoping whoever was there would leave the suitcases alone. Whoever was there was either too impatient to thoroughly look, or didn't suspect Kendall was there, because the door was immediately closed. Kendall finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He was pretty sure he was going to miss the hockey game, which was fine with him. Then again, it probably wouldn't be with his dad. He could see his dad's dagger glare staring holes right into him.

With that, the tears wanted to come back. He fought the noise, but not the water. What was the point? He was weak anyway. The tears from his right eye slid down the top of his nose, mixed with his left eye tears, and finished it's journey by falling off his face and sucked into the carpet.

"I know where he is!" Logan exclaimed. "I remember when he told me about it. He heard pairs of feet walking closer and closer to him. He turned away from the door, again making as little noise as possible. He brought his feet up to his chest and hugged them.

WEEEEEEAK.

Light once again crept in and mixed with the dark.

"He's not in there. I checked," Carlos informed.

Logan ignored this, to Kendall's dismay, and even more light was able to enter when one of the suitcases were knocked over.

Kendall shaking at this point, and since they could only see his back, he hoped they wouldn't piece it together and realize he was crying.

WEEEEEEAK.

"Oh," Carlos quietly said.

"Do you think he was crying?" James asked. Of course.

"Sweetie?" Mrs. Knight tried to turn him over, but he refused to move. "Come on, today's your last game before Christmas!"

Kendall pulled himself closer to the wall. Then he shook his head and tried to say, "Nuh-Uh."

"Kendall?" Carlos squeaked. Needless to say, the boy was very confused.

"Boys, move all the suitcases for me, please."

They nodded and pulled them out of the small space.

Once they were all out of the closet, Mrs. Knight kneeled down, as close to Kendall as her growing stomach would allow her. "Kendall, honey, what's wrong?"

Kendall, eyes shut, finally let one little sound of weakness escape. The whimper was heard by everyone in the room, and it sounded like glass shattering.

Mrs. Knight frowned, knowing her little boy wouldn't usually do this. He was a strong kid. And he definitely hated crying in front of his friends. Mrs. Knight's explanation for her son's behavior was something along the line of "It's my husband's fault".

She reached for his sides, finding it the easiest way to pick him up. A sudden flinch at contact made her hands fly back. After a few seconds, she sent her hands to take the same path they previously took. She was expecting the flinch this time, and it was noticeably softer. She pulled him closer and finally scooped him up. He clung to his mother and buried his head her neck. She stood up with the little boy, and used her head to gesture, "Follow me."

The boys received the unspoken message and trailed behind her. They did their best to keep their eyes off of Kendall. The sight sent shivers down their spines, not to mention it just made things plain awkward.

Mrs. Knight sat down in the living room couch and stoked the boy's hair. Her goal was to get him to calm down before the game, and she decided it was easier without three boys staring and worrying. She sent them outside, figuring the play equipment Mr. Knight installed for the new baby would keep them busy for while.

The baby wouldn't be able to use the treehouse, trampoline, zip line, swing set, or slide until she was older, but even then, Kendall was forbidden to look at any of it. She really wasn't sure was his goal was, but she sure hoped the girl wouldn't grow up to be a brat.

Slowly, slowly Kendall stopped, and they still had a good half hour left. When the sounds finally stopped, Mrs. Knight thought it would be a good time to ask what in the world was going on.

"You wanna tell me what's wrong now?"

He breathed in slowly and answered, "I won't be good enough."

Yup. It was definitely her husband's fault.

She frowned at her son's words. "Why?"

"B-because he said so."

Mrs. Knight squeezed her eyes shut, partially for the same reason as Kendall had. "And you believed him?"

"He said it was true."

"Oh, Kendall." She hugged him tightly. "I don't want you listening to anything he says about you. Unless it's good. Understand? You will do great. You'll be better than good enough. Got it?"

"Reawwy?"

She smiled warmly. "Of course. Now I'm going to bring your friends back inside, and while I do that, your going to go upstairs and change."

Kendall nodded at crawled out of his mother's lapped. He wiped his already dry face, annoyed at the stains he felt.

He raced up to his own room and pulled his gold and maroon jersey on. He decided it would be a smart thing to take a quick bathroom break. While washing his hands, he looked up at his reflection. Those stupid stains he felt were finally visible to him, and they were mocking him.

Ha ha ha ha ha! You couldn't stop us! You couldn't stop us!

He quickly took his newly cleansed hands and splashed water at his face. Then he rubbed and rubbed until he felt the job was done. He looked back at himself. There, no weakness showing anymore.

He ran back downstairs, and for the second time that day, felt confident. This time it was different. Last time he was confident in his plan. This time, it was all in himself. This was what he wanted more of. He wanted to grab this feeling and never let go.

He reached the kitchen and saw his friends eating celery stalks. He was never too fond of celery, it had a really weird taste. He'd still eat it, but it had to be smothered in ranch dressing.

He felt the awkward level in the room go up immensely. He sat on one of the stools, shifting every few seconds. If he knew it would lead up to this… who was he kidding? He would've been lying if he said that he wouldn't have done it. He didn't know if lying made you weak, but his mom always said it made you a bad person, and Kendall would rather be weak than bad. Right? Was that a lie? Ugh, never mind.

"Okay time to go!" Mrs Knight clapped her hands together and started towards the car. They piled into the Knight can and drove off.

Kendall finally excited. The last game of the season! It was actually his first real season of hockey, but that made it even more exciting!

I'm gonna win, I'm gonna win, I'm gonna win, Kendall told himself. And it felt good believing it for a change.

No. No, no, no! The other team already had a point! It was 1-0 and he had to win! He'd be fine with a tie but he couldn't lose! He skated faster than he ever thought he could. The other team had the puck, and the kid in possession of it was admittedly big. He didn't care. He needed the puck. He was going to get it.

Unfortunately, no one else believed that. Somehow, Kendall was going to fail, and it would be the basement hockey incident all over again.

He was gaining on the kid. He was about three feet from the goal, ready to shoot, when something zipped right by him. It was Kendall. He had the puck now! And everyone was to busy dropping their jaws to see Kendall score the goal.

Once it happened, there was a quick moment of cheering, but the game had to resume, and Kendall felt even more confident.

He could see it. The score was 3-3 and he could see the goal. It was just a few feet away. It was a now or never type of thing. The game was almost over and if he didn't score now, he'd go home with his dad sporting a disappointed scowl.

In retrospect, it was pretty stupid to be skating only two feet from the wall, but Kendall hadn't noticed, because he could see it right there! But everyone else saw it. They all saw the kid skating closer and closer to Kendall. They didn't think too much of it, because that was what hockey was, right? So they also didn't think too much of it when he was checked into the wall. In fact, Kendall didn't even think too much of it. He had played a whole season and was checked more times than Carlos had jumped of his roof.

It wasn't until the player tackled him to the ice that the referee blew his whistle. However, the player had not moved off of Kendall. No one could really see it, but there had been multiple punches and kicks (which really hurt when it's done with a skate blade) involved. The referee and the player's coach had to pry the other player off the blond. Kendall managed to catch a quick glimpse at his attacker. Was that… the kid he stole the puck from? Was this supposed to be revenge? Why couldn't he take a less painful route? Like, taking the puck from Kendall and making a goal? This was totally uncalled for.

Kendall's vision went blurry. He wasn't hurt that bad was he? Well… the kid was huge. Maybe he had tackled him in really, really hard, alongside punching him a couple times in the head.

Finally, it was black. Painless, blissful, black.

**I did my best to get Kendall right. So I'm truly deeply sorry if turned out be bratty or jump-to-conclusion-y. I'll try harder. **

**Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**


	3. A Night To Sleep

**Stupid internet. This supposed to be up yesterday. Anyway, the time interval between the last chapter and this chapter is up to you, but it happened the same day so careful with that and stuffs. But Kendall does take a "nap", so let's pretend that nap took him to the next day. Okay, no more bother-y-ations. (Now I want you to say that word WITHOUT any pauses)**

Kendall was awake, or, self aware. He had been for a while, he just didn't want to open his eyes. He'd see his friends jumping around, his mom fussing over him, and his father wearing a glare. He knew he'd be wearing a glare. He messed up after all. He shouldn't have let his guard down. He should've avoided the check. He shouldn't have thought it would just be a check. He should've known.

Kendall absentmindedly brought his hand up to his face, but soon after putting it back in it's place after feeling sudden pain from the movement. What was that?

"Hey, Logie, he moved!" He heard James yell.

"He's not dead!" Carlos cheered.

"Kendall?" He heard Logan move closer to him. "Can you open your eyes?"

He didn't want to open his eyes. Didn't they get that? He turned on his side with a grumpy face, hissing from the pain he forgot he would feel.

"Are you okay?" Carlos asked.

Kendall kept his eyes shut and didn't answer.

"Kendall?" James tried.

"I don't think he wants to be bothered, boys," a feminine voice spoke up. It was his mother's, he was sure of that.

"Why wouldn't he?" Carlos' confused voice wondered.

He could almost hear his mother's smile. "He's tired sweetie. How about you guys go home for the day, huh? You guys could use some rest too."

"But I'm not tired!" They whined.

Mrs. Knight ushered them out anyway, then when she knew they were going home safely, returned to her son. She watch him from across the room. He previously had wore a face that said "Do Not Disturb". Now he looked rather peaceful, enjoying his shut-eye time. Was he really asleep now? Jennifer knew her son had always been a heavy sleeper, but she knew that it was probably humanly impossible to fall asleep in less than two minutes.

She wanted to stroke his hair and tell him everything was fine, but Kendall had always been the irritable type, so it was probably safer to let him be.

Kendall couldn't hear anymore whines or yelling, so he assumed his friends were gone. He opened one eye and looked at his mother, as if to ask of they were really gone.

She nodded her head and he then opened his eyes. He looked around, trying to take in his surroundings. He finally figured out that it was a hospital and his arm didn't have a cast or anything, but it was wrapped in gauze. Did it come in contact with the blade? Apparently it did.

"Kendall, aren't you tired?"

He shook his head, but stopped after a headache threatened to take over.

Mrs. Knight looked sympathetically at her son. "What hurts, honey?"

Kendall closed his eyes again and thought. "My arm and my head."

Mrs. Knight, not expecting an answer, frowned.

A male in a white coat entered the room. "I'm Dr. Brown. And you must be Kendall!"

Kendall nodded, lightly so he didn't disturb anything.

"I'm happy to say you can leave now!"

"Reawwy?" He asked uncertainly, remembering previous hospital trips longer than this.

"Sure, you just need to rest, and that's easier at home." With that, Dr. Brown left the room.

"You wanna walk yourself?" Mrs. Knight asked.

Kendall shook his head, momentarily forgetting about the consequences. He just didn't want to find out what had happened to his legs.

Mrs. Knight complied and picked him up, resembling earlier that morning. He then felt the throbbing in his legs. He knew he'd been kicked there with the blades, but he didn't know it would hurt this much. True, Kendall had never broken a bone or anything, but he'd been in some pretty painful situations, none of which even compared to this.

"M-mommy, it hurts," he whined. He was on the verge of tears, and the lump in his throat seemed to grow.

"I know, sweetie, I know. But I need you to be strong, okay? You can go home and rest, I promise."

He did his best to keep his breathing under control. He couldn't show weakness, he only allowed himself to feel it, because showing it and feeling it are two different things, right?

Kendall couldn't even remember why he was so confident earlier that day. Wasn't he crying in the closet? Wasn't he pulling his own hair? Didn't it take half an hour for his mother to get him to calm down?

WEEEEEEEEEEEEAK.

He was tired of this! Couldn't he just be good enough? Couldn't someone tell him what the heck 'good enough' meant? He held on to his mother tighter, eventually loosening his grip. Once he realized it was loosened, though, he held on even tighter. It repeated a number of times.

By the time they were halfway to the house, Kendall had fallen asleep. He was only six, the day's events had to have catch up to him eventually.

As Mrs. Knight carried Kendall to his room when they finally reached their destination, she noticed Mr. Knight glaring at the sleeping boy.

What could possibly be now? The kid was just sleeping after being attacked by an immensely larger boy and being cut basically everywhere! Would it really be that hard to show a shred of sympathy? She was pretty sure glares and discouragement were not signs of a healthy father-son relationship. But what could she really do about it?

When Kendall woke up, he didn't want to get out of bed. He didn't care if it was Christmas Eve and he should be happy, not to mention at Logan's house in ten minutes.

It didn't matter how quick he ate breakfast and got in the car. His dad would catch up to him. His dad would tell him just about everything he did wrong. The worst part was, Kendall knew what he did wrong, but his dad would find words… harsher, than Kendall had thought of.

So, he spent the next five minutes in bed. The problem was, once you were awake, it was kind of hard to shut your eyes again. And Kendall had always been restless when it came to being awake, yet in bed.

When his mom finally came up to take him to Logan's house, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go anymore. What were they doing again? He had completely forgot. Maybe it something about hockey. Something about Christmas? If he couldn't even remember the point of going, maybe he shouldn't even go. But not going would worry his mom and his friends, which was way more trouble than it was worth.

So, he got up and got ready as fast as he could. It was pretty hard, considering he had so many cuts and bruises on his legs, particularly his right one, but on the plus side, his arm was healing quick. His left arm was the only one to take any damage, which wasn't much since the hockey blades were too focused on his legs.

After a fair amount of struggle, Kendall was finally ready and in the car. As the car started, Kendall started to grow excited again. Sure he'd be a little late, but he had an excuse.

The Knight car had finally pulled into the Mitchell driveway. It was a nice house. It wasn't as big as James', but they can't all be successful business owners, now can they? Besides, the real estate agent job payed pretty well, and Kendall never heard Logan complain.

James, Carlos, and Logan were already in the basement, doing whatever they had planned to do.

Kendall realized then how hard it was going to be getting down the stairs without assistance. He decided he should suck it up and get down "like a man". That's what his dad would've told him to do. So he did, but sucking it up was easier said than done. The pain in his right leg was unbearable, and accompanied by his left leg, he thought he was going to fall the rest of the way.

His friends didn't notice him until he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Kendall's here!" Carlos yelled. "Now we can play basement hockey!"

Of all the stupid decisions Kendall had made in his life, he was sure if he agreed to play, it would've topped them all. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have been much help to his team anyway, but he could always be the lazy goalie.

Luckily, he didn't have to make any inexplicably dumb choices, because Mr. Mitchell, who was put in charge of watching the boys, was informed in advance about Kendall's injuries, and declared there would be no basement hockey that day.

"Aw, then what do we do?" James complained.

Logan, the most observant of the four, thought it would be a bad idea to do anything involving using feet, so he suggested a board game. Carlos, the least observant one (also the one to forget about the hockey game the day before), decided that was the day he officially grew out of board games.

"A movie?" Logan suggested.

"No way! That's not until after dinner, Logie! That's a whole," he started to count on his fingers, "Lot of hours away!"

Kendall rolled his eyes.

James, who finally acknowledged Kendall as a real person, said,"Hey, what do you want to do?"

Kendall was caught by surprise. He was waiting for the decision to make itself, or at least let his friends decide. He didn't have the slightest clue on what to do. He just shrugged.

"You haven't said anything since you got here," Carlos pointed out.

Kendall shrugged, not realizing shrugging still wasn't talking.

"Logan's dad!" Carlos called. "I think Kendall's broken!"

Logan face palmed while James snickered.

Kendall, finally knowing what he had done, said, "No! I'm fine! I just- I'm tired."

"But it's noon."

"Carlos, he was hurt," Logan explained.

"So?"

Logan sighed, finally accepting that Carlos was a lost cause.

"It's okay, you guys can play a game and I'w watch," Kendall offered.

"But it won't be fair! It'll be two to one!" James exclaimed.

"Wew, Wogan's dad could be your fourth pwayer."

They all looked expectantly at his dad, who shrugged and got up. Kendall took his spot on the gray couch.

The game started, and Logan and his dad lost, badly. It really wasn't his fault, the stick was way too small for him and the boys were so short they could just zip right past him.

It didn't look like a very good game, but Kendall really wanted to play. Darn his leg. And arm. And the headaches. When the boys were finally exhausted from hockey, they agreed to a board game.

At least I can play, Kendall thought to himself.

Of course, board games got really boring when you were six and had legs, arms, and head that worked fine. So in less than two hours, they had gone through every one of Logan's board games, and James and Carlos decided on Twister.

Just the thought of staying in those uncomfortable position made Kendall hurt all over.

He knew James and Carlos didn't mean to pick games Kendall couldn't play, but could they at least notice that Kendall wasn't playing any of them?

Luckily, Logan came to his rescue. "Hey, maybe we should go upstairs and eat. I'm starving." He topped it off with rubbing his stomach in a circular motion.

Carlos and James looked at each other and shrugged. "Alright."

Kendall was grateful, until he looked at the stairs.

This time, Logan's dad came to his rescue. "How'd you like a piggy back ride up the stairs?"

"I want a piggy back ride!" Carlos whined.

"It's only for Kendall, sorry buddy."

Carlos frowned for a second, but then thought of the food he was about to consume and shot up the stairs.

Kendall climbed onto Mr. Mitchell's back, feeling a bit of pain, but knowing walking up the stairs would have been even harder.

At the top of the stairs, Mr. Mitchell let Kendall down, and Kendall was immediately attacked by the wonderful smell of fish sticks. He limped over to the table and hungrily ate all of the fried fish on the plate set out for him.

"Okay, now can we play Twister?" Carlos asked.

Mrs. Mitchell glanced at Kendall. She knew that he was in no shape to play games like that. "Maybe you boys should do something else. You could… go make your own ornaments!"

"You can do that?" James asked.

Logan smiled brightly. "Yeah! I made one, it's a lot of fun! I'll show you!"

Kendall did think it would be fun, especially compared to watching his friends play Twister. He made a mental note to make the Mitchell's each a Christmas card for being so helpful.

As the boys raced back downstairs, Kendall was faced with the same problem again.

"You want another ride down?" He heard Mr. Mitchell ask.

Kendall nodded and climbed back on his back.

"Thanks," Kendall said.

"It's what I do," he replied.

As it turned out, ornament making was fun. Kendall had a blue one, a color he recently found was really nice to look at.

James had a purple one, Carlos had an orange one, and Logan's was red.

Then they had a bunch of Santa stickers, with reindeers and sleds covering the surface every so often.

"I like mine," James said.

"Yeah, let's go hang it up on the tree!" Carlos exclaimed.

Kendall realized that would mean going up the stairs again. He didn't want to have to ask Mr. Mitchell again.

"Wouldn't it be more special if it was on your own trees?" Logan asked.

"Yeah…" Carlos agreed.

"What do we do now?"

"You boys could go outside. Logan just got a new treehouse," Mr. Mitchell said, staring at Kendall.

Kendall nodded, indicating that it wouldn't be too much for him.

The boys left through the glass doors of the basement, and Logan showed them to the ladder. As it turned out, climbing a ladder with a hurt arm and a really hurt leg might've been harder than climbing stairs.

But he made it to the top. Logan had stuffed a bunch of white boards into his treehouse in the few days that he had it, and the boys were now scribbling away. The only problem was that scribbling away meant vigorously moving your arm, and that was hard to do when your writing hand was attached to an arm that was healing from being kicked a couple of time with a blade.

"Guys, I'm gonna go back inside."

"Oh," Carlos said, "You want us to come with you?"

"No, you guys can stay here as long as you were planning to. It'll be like I never left."

James frowned, but quietly said, "Okay."

Logan just looked sympathetically at Kendall.

It turned out that sometimes, gravity was a painful, useless force. Kendall was halfway down when his left arm couldn't take it anymore, and his right arm felt exhausted, resulting in falling to the ground with an "Oomph!"

He was only a feet up, so it didn't hurt too much, but his mind multiplied his pain, and he basically crawled back to the house. He opened the glass door to find Mr. Mitchell was still there. But this time, he was watching TV. "Too much for you?"

Kendall nodded and sat down on the couch. "Well, you're welcome to come and watch hockey with me."

Kendall looked at the screen, which in fact, was hockey. Kendall moved so that he was lying down and facing the screen. As he watched his favorite players skate around, he couldn't stop the thoughts of the previous day's hockey game.

"Screw up."

"Can't you do anything right?"

He didn't have to worry about it for too long, because in a matter of minutes, Kendall felt a headache and closed his eyes, trying to get it to go away. Instead, little by little, he started to drift off into a nice, cozy dream world where pain didn't exist.

When Logan, Carlos, and James first walked in, they saw a hockey game on, and Logan's dad's eyes glued to it. They then saw a smaller body asleep on the couch. It kind of resembled Kendall. It couldn't have been Kendall, though. Kendall never falls asleep during a hockey game. His eyes are always watching every little movement and laughing at the stupid commercials.

As they moved closer, it appeared that it really was Kendall.

Carlos looked at him with confusion in his eyes. Maybe he was right. Carlos was just kidding before, but it really did seem like Kendall broke.

Logan's dad finally noticed the boys walk in when the game went to commercial break. He put his finger over his lips, silently telling them to be quiet.

None of them really saw the point of that, after all the TV would probably drown out any noise they make.

"Hey, Twister is a quiet game. Can we play that now?"

Logan looked at Kendall. He was sleeping, so no harm done.

After a rather long game of Twister, the three boys were worn out. Taking a nap didn't really sound like such a crazy idea.

"Daddy, what time is it?" Logan asked.

Mr. Mitchell glanced at his watch. "Three."

The boys looked at each other. Kendall had been asleep for three hours now.

"Do you… do you guys think Kendall broke?" Carlos asked, completely serious.

Logan sighed. "Carlos, a person can't break."

"But Kendall did."

"He's not broken!"

They heard a groan and looked over at their sleeping friend. He changed positions, but didn't wake.

"Is that not broken?" Carlos asked.

"No! It's not!"

"Guys, don't worry," James assured, "He'll be awake in no time. We just have to keep ourselves busy."

"But we already did everything!" Carlos complained.

"He's right."

"Then we re-do everything," James stated.

"Fine then. What did we do first?"

"Mine's gonna look even better," Kendall heard.

"Yeah, well, mine's gonna look like a unicorn threw up on it!"

Kendall opened one eye to see what was going on. He saw Logan scrunch his nose in disgust. "That's gross."

"Nuh-uh! Unicorn throw up rainbows and magic stuff."

"No, they throw up whatever they eat."

"Which is rainbows and magic stuff."

Logan rolled his eyes and picked up a paintbrush. They were making ornaments again.

Of course, James turned his head so he was looking at Kendall. "Hey he's awake!"

Carlos looked over and sighed for a really long period of time. "FA-YEW! I thought you died!"

Kendall smiled and sat up. "Die? Because of a hockey accident? No, that's the easy way out!"

Carlos looked confused. "I thought the easy way out was suffocation."

"No, that's the painful way out, the easy way out is dying in your sleep," Logan corrected.

"The point is, when I die, I'm gonna die… betterly!"

"That's not a word. It's just better," Logan said.

"I wanna die betterly too!" Carlos exclaimed, ignoring Logan.

"BETTER. B-E-T-T-E-R. Not betterly."

"Betterly," James piped up.

"Gah! What is it with you guys and words that don't even exist? No one say 'bestest', and no one says 'betterly'!"

The boys, again merely laughed at Logan's frustration, Logan soon joining them.

"Movie time!" Carlos yelled.

Kendall, yet again had to take a ride on the Mr. Mitchell's back mobile.

"What movie should we watch?" Logan asked.

"Let's watch 101 Dalmatians!" Carlos shouted.

"Yeah!"

Despite seeing the movie a gazillion times before, the boys all sat through the movie quietly, watching every single scene intently and quoting along the way.

When the movie ended, they were still wide awake. "Let's watch Aladdin!"

"Yeah!"

After more laughs, more quoting, and more watching the same scenes over and over again, the movie ended.

"I'm tired."

"Yeah."

"I'm not!"

They waited for the fourth voice, but it never spoke up.

They all turned around to see, yet again, Kendall sleeping.

"Shhhh," Logan hushed. "We should be going to sleep too."

The boys went to sleep wondering about Kendall. They knew it was late, but none of them ever missed the end of a movie. Maybe he missed the entire movie, they didn't know. They could only hope he was really okay.

**End author's note time! So, pointless chapter really. I'm just giving Kendall a break before Christmas. Not much will happen then either, since I'm not a strong believer of large doses of angst on holidays special enough to get school cancelled. You hear that Halloween? Better step up your game! **


	4. Christmas Sickness

I feel like a doof. I said that they went outside on CHRISTMAS EVE. Like, one of the coldest days of the year. Oh well, they toughed it out. Well, three of them did.

Kendall Knight definitely did not have the right to be tired. All he did was take naps yesterday. He fell asleep during Aladdin! It was his favorite part too, when Aladdin meets the genie and he sings that song. Oh what was it called?

And why was his bed so hard? Kendall opened his eyes and nearly screamed. This was not his bedroom, and whatever his head was resting on was not a pillow.

His body shot up, with of course, a stupid head ache. It took a while to remember that he was at Logan's house, and that it was James under him.

A rumbling like noise was heard by Kendall, and a few seconds later it registered that was his stomach. Food. That sounds good. What would he be having on Christmas? Pancakes? They were typically his favorite, but the thought made him sick. Scrambled eggs? Ew. Milk? His stomach seemed to want him to go hungry. Which was ironic.

Kendall had once thrown up on an empty stomach. It felt awful, you just violently gag. He didn't want that to happen on Christmas!

Although, if he age something, it would surely come back up, so he'd throw up anyway.

His mind then focused on the rest of his body. Was it this hot when he went to bed? What was he wearing, flannel? He looked down. Nope.

He got up and carefully stepped over James. He didn't think it would've mattered if he had jumped on him, the three other boys were sleeping like logs.

Again, he was face to step with the stairs. This going to be even harder with his legs hurting and shaking.

Still, he took one step. Another. Another. It finally became to much. He sat down, his stomach increasing the feeling of throwing up. Nausea. Probably one of his least favorite feelings.

He wasn't too far up the stairs. Maybe if he… too late. Before he could stop himself, his body stumbled down the stairs, despite the fact that he was sitting.

Okay, now he needed to barf. Maybe he could stop it. He just needed to think about something else. That worked, right?

He heard a groan from where his friends were sleeping, and figured one of them was waking up. Not wanting to be seen, he pressed himself against the couch.

Logan stood up and rubbed his eyes. Oh how wonderful it must feel to be able to do that and not feel like vomiting. He made his way to the stairs, not noticing Kendall. When Kendall thought he was home free, Logan looked back at the sleeping boys. Confusion crossed his face, clearly wondering why there were two bodies there instead of three. "Kendall?"

He pressed himself harder against the couch, and squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would make him even more inconspicuous.

"Kendall," Logan said, "I know you're there."

Kendall sighed and opened his eyes. He looked up at Logan.

"Do you feel okay?"

Was there any point in lying? As soon as he ate something he'd throw up anyway.

"No," he croaked.

"Should I get my mom?" Logan asked.

Kendall was about to shake his head when that stupid headache came back with full force.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

Logan wasn't stupid, so he didn't yell for his mom, and he didn't loudly stomp up the stairs. He quietly tiptoed up, grateful he wasn't sick or injured like Kendall. He did feel a little guilty for being so selfish, but if any of them can handle a sick friend, it's him. So maybe it really was better Kendall (or James or Carlos for that matter) than Logan.

Once Logan reached the top, he figured it wouldn't hurt to run.

"Mom?"

"Logan? I'm in the kitchen," she answered.

As soon as he set foot in the kitchen, he smelled the wonderful smell of Christmas breakfast.

"Are your friends up yet?"

"Well… uh, Kendall is."

"Good, is he hungry?"

"Uh, I don't know. But he said he's not feeling too good."

Joanna Mitchell looked down at her son. "Is he sick?"

Logan almost rolled his eyes. Isn't that what he just said? "Yeah."

"He's still downstairs, right?"

Logan nodded. "I think he might throw up." It was true, his face was almost as green as his eyes.

Kendall was still sitting against the couch when Logan came down with his mom. "Feel bad, sweetie?"

Kendall slightly nodded, not wanting to upset his head.

"You think you can eat breakfast?"

Kendall scrunched his nose at the thought. Breakfast sounded like the worst idea ever.

"Your mom was supposed to come in an hour, but I should call her now."

"He's not going home, is he?" Logan asked.

"That's up to his mother, Logie."

Logan despised that nickname, but he was too busy getting ready to give his other to friends a wake-up-tackle.

"Ah! Dude! What was that?" James yelled.

"Sh! Kendall's sick!" Logan whispered.

"But… it's Christmas," Carlos pointed out, as if it would make a difference.

Logan hadn't thought of that. He knew it was Christmas and he knew Kendall was sick, but he hadn't quite connected the two to come to the conclusion that Kendall was sick on Christmas.

Idiot, he thought to himself.

"Is he going home?" James asked.

"It's up to his mom," Logan repeated.

"Oh," Carlos said, looking down. "So he really is broke?"

It irritated Logan how Carlos could say that with a straight face. "Carlos! Humans. Can't. Break!"

"But bones can break."

"But you don't say the person is broken, you say the bone is broken!"

"But you could, you know."

"Yeah, because it would make so much sense to break your leg and go 'Oh! I'm broke!'"

"Fine. Next time I break my leg, I'll say I'm broken, and eyed body will hear me, and everybody'll start saying it too!"

"Or they'll just think you're crazy…"

Logan felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned back to look at James, who was looking at Kendall. "I don't think he likes your yelling."

Logan didn't even realize that they were yelling. For the second time that day, Logan felt like an idiot.

"Guys?" Kendall spoke up from the other side of the room. "I'm bored."

Carlos almost smiled. "But you're sick."

"Yeah, but I'm not dying."

"Yeah…" Logan said. "He probably just has a cold or something. It's not like he has some deadly disease."

"Darn it Logan, you jinxed it!" James complained.

Kendall gave a small giggle. "If I die, I'll blame you."

"But if you die you won't- OOMPH!" Logan shoved the pillow that had just been thrown at him off. "What was that for?"

"You're not allowed to talk like that on Christmas," Carlos answered. "Or any day."

Kendall smiled. He leaned back against the side of the couch.

"Isn't uncomfortable like that?" James asked him.

Kendall shifted. "A little, but if I move I might throw up."

James' hand move to his own stomach, as if a wave of nausea would inexplicably wash over him.

Ding-dong

"Doorbell," Carlos whispered.

"Hi Jennifer, he's downstairs," the four heard Mrs. Mitchell say.

"Oh, my baby boy," Mrs. Knight cooed.

"Mom," Kendall groaned. All he heard was baby.

"You haven't eaten anything yet, have you?" She asked.

Kendall was about to instinctively shake his head when he thought better of it. "No."

"Good, now come one," she said as she pick him up.

He had to admit, being somewhere other than against the the hard side of a couch and in a totally different position felt nice.

Mrs. Knight carried him upstairs, Logan, Carlos, and James not far behind.

"Is it bad?" Joanna asked.

"Well… I don't think so, definitely won't be keeping anything down today."

"Don't remind me," Kendall mumbled. He rested his head on his mother's shoulder and let his eyes droop.

The other three boys looked at him in disbelief. How does someone feel so tired all of a sudden?

Mrs. Knight stroked his blond hair. "I should probably take him home."

Kendall didn't move, probably due to the fact that he had (unintentionally) tuned out.

His friends, however had heard the sentence, and Logan's mom happened to know exactly what would happen if the boys didn't get what they wanted: protest, riot, and a mess the size of Minnesota.

"Nonsense! It's Christmas, let the boy have a little fun!"

"Yes, well I'm afraid there won't be any 'fun' when all four of them wake up tomorrow with fevers."

"Aw, please?" James begged. "I don't care if I get sick!"

"Well I'm sure your mother would," Mrs. Knight replied.

"How about we wait for the boys' families to get here, then we'll decide whether or not you should take Kendall home."

Jennifer thought this over. "Alright, alright. I just don't want you to complain to me when Logan throws up tomorrow."

Joanna smiled. "I won't. Probably"

It didn't take long for the rest of the parents to get there, it was Christmas and they wanted to spend it with their boys. It also didn't take long to convince Mrs. Knight that she should let Kendall stay.

No one asked about Mr. Knight's absence.

The living room had wrapping paper covering nearly every inch of it, the rest being covered by the presents.

The parents talked while the boys played with their new toys, and by nightfall was pretty much worn out.

The boys were in the basement when they heard a scream followed by a, "Boys, get in the car!"

Mr. Knight was in his office when he received the call. "What?" He barked into the phone.

He listened to the voice on the other side and replied with an, "Oh."

He hung up and quickly grabbed his coat and keys. He put on boots, not wanting to risk ruining his shoes in the fresh Christmas snow. That and boots didn't come with laces that couldn't tie themselves.

He raced into his car and drove off. "To the hospital," he mumbled.

Short and all over the place is how I'd describe this. Sorry…

Anyway, for those of you who didn't pick it up, Katie is going to be bornded (Yeah! I know that spelled wrong!). I tried to make the part where the boys find out about it short on account of I'm not too sure on how it works. If there's not supposed to be a scream, sorry… again. I made a point of not showing much (if any) of Mr. Knight's feelings.

And I threw in a little Logan, because I'm desperately trying to move on. Help me…

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee


End file.
